Okay, so this may appear to be my first fanfiction but really, it isn't. I had another account but I got peeved off with it so I made a new one. So, yeah. YOU SHALL NOT KNOW THE NAME OF IT! (Just because I like to be a pain in the butt and I like being mysterious).

So anyway... I don't own Avengers.

READ ON PEOPLE (if you want)

STEVEN ROGERS – CAPTAIN AMERICA

PTSD – Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
All the Avengers feel its effects, some more than others, and while they might try their best to hide the triggers – they're always there and they're always going to show in the end.

Steven Rogers was Captain America back in 1941. How could he hide under such a mask now when couldn't do such a 'simple' thing as distinguish an iPhone from an Android?

Personally, he didn't understand the importance of knowing about all of the hi-tech stuff, apart from the fact that, yes, it would probably get Tony off his back. He wondered if perhaps he could be what the people called a 'superhero' if he couldn't do such simple things with technology. So, he decided to seek out Tony's advice (something he'd never admit to doing later).

As he jogged down the stairs – he didn't see the purpose of an elevator, did people really want to get fat? – he asked himself for the millionth time why he was doing this. In fact, why should he care about what others thought of his technology skills? Why should he care what they thought?

He paused for a moment at the bottom of the stairs before walking up to and rapping loudly on the glass door of Tony's workshop, sighing as the billionaire remained under what Steve guessed was a Lamborghini. Loud music blared, most likely AC/DC, and Steve figured that Tony was probably completely oblivious to his arrival.

"Hey, JARVIS," Steve called, hoping to get a hold of the AI. "Can you let me in?"

"Sorry Captain Rogers," JARVIS apologised immediately. "I am under strict orders from Mr Stark not to let you in. He told me that you were probably the most likely to irritate him while he was working."

Steve tried not to look hurt, so he settled for a barely audible huff and folded his arms. "What about Clint?" He demanded.

There was a pause this time and the AI's answer wasn't quite as prompt as the last. "Good point, Captain Rogers," JARVIS agreed at last. "Agent Barton is quite the troublemaker. I shall inform Mr Stark of that right away."

Steve scowled at the lack of sympathy from the British accented AI and rapped on the glass again. This time, at least, his efforts gained a rather productive result.

Tony slid out from under the silver sports car and raised his eyebrows upon seeing Steve standing impatiently at the door. "Sup, Capsicle?" He asked, though before Steve had the chance to answer, he was cut off by JARVIS.

"Captain Rogers gave me quite the enlightenment, sir," JARVIS announced. "Should I have the order to keep Agent Barton out as well as Captain Rogers?"

Tony frowned slightly. "Great idea, J," he agreed at last, nodding his head slightly. "You might want to add Spider to that list too."

"Of course, sir," Jarvis said obediently, just before Tony called out another command and the glass door slid open, allowing Steve to enter the room.

Steve was about to ask Tony who Spider was (though he had a fairly good idea that it was Agent Romanoff) when the billionaire spoke to him again, asking him what he wanted.

The Captain stepped into the workshop, the door sliding shut behind him, and looked down at Tony who was still sitting on the floor with a smear of grease across his forehead. As well as his dark pants and tightly fitted black singlet, he had a pair of black work goggles resting awkwardly on top of his messy brown hair.

"I need you to teach me the basics of modern technology." Steve's cheeks tinged a light pink as the words left his lips and he looked down at the ground, fiddling awkwardly with a loose string from his Captain America outfit.

If Tony had been expecting an answer from the older man, it certainly wasn't that. He raised his eyebrows and looked slightly taken aback, before hurriedly reverting back to his usual cool demeanor. "You want me to teach you about modern technology?" He demanded, an amused look adorning his face.

Steve resisted the urge to roll his eyes and place his hands on his hips. "I don't really feel like repeating myself, da Vinci." He snapped. An amused smirk flickered across Tony's face.

"Weirdest sense of déjà vu," he muttered, before then saying louder; "I don't paint."

Steve looked at him oddly but decided against questioning the billionaire. Who knew what went through Stark's mind, even while he was sober?

"Anyway," Tony continued. "Sure, I can help, but not right now. This car has braking problems and I need to make improvements to my security system. Turns out Itsy Bitsy Spider decided to plant cameras in my room so she could monitor my sleeping patterns... bloody stalker."

Steve suppressed a smirk and decided to take the news without much of a fuss. He knew he wasn't going to get help right away; that'd probably be number fifty on Stark's to-do list.

"Butterfingers, get Capsicle and I drink, would you?" Tony gestured to what looked like a sort of silvery mechanical arm. Upon being spoken to, it made a series of mechanical clicks and wheeled off. "A coke will do, I'm trying to stay sober for the moment." The last statement took Steve by surprise. Had Tony ever actually wanted to stay sober a single day in his life?

Tony turned back to Steve and subconsciously rubbed at his forehead, smudging the grease until it resembled a rather dark rain cloud. He slid back under the car, though moments later a large thump was heard, accompanied by a fervent; "Son of a bitch!" And he slid back out from under the car again. This time, a long cut ran across his forehead, right by the dark smear of grease. It didn't look deep but, judging by the look on Tony's face, it either really hurt or stung like hell.

"Are you alright?" Steve asked worriedly. He stepped forward and leant down to examine the wound.

"I'm fine," Tony insisted. "J, check it would you?" A blue light ran across his forehead and was accompanied by JARVIS' British accent.

"The cut is rather shallow, sir," the AI informed. "Although sir, if you do not wish for an infection, I suggest antiseptic cream."

"Thanks, mother," Tony rolled his eyes. "Is there anything else?"

"Well, sir," JARVIS continued. If it was possible for an AI to sound amused, Steve could have sworn that he did. "Perhaps you could do with a My Little Pony band-aid?"

Steve snickered and Tony just grit his teeth and slid back under the car, Steve still snickering. However, almost straight away, Butterfingers let out a sequence of mechanical clicks and Tony groaned and slid back out again.

"Thanks Butterfingers," he muttered and staggered clumsily to his feet. He walked over to the bar in which Butterfingers had prepared the drinks and picked both glasses up. "Here," he extended his hand and handed Steve a glass of coke which he took gratefully.

However, once he looked down into the dark coloured liquid, he froze in shock. For there, floating in the sugary liquid, were three transparent ice cubes. Perhaps that may sound childish, overly dramatic and rather silly, but to Steven Rogers, they brought back horrific memories. If you had spent seventy years trapped in ice, you wouldn't be too thrilled to be staring straight at it again.

Since he had been brought up and out of the ice, he'd done his best to avoid it. Never put it in his drinks and never opened a freezer – that sort of thing. Steve knew Tony hadn't intentionally put the ice in his glass, heck; he didn't even make the drink. Tony didn't know that ice still freaked him out, even now.

You see, while the other Avengers figured that Steve probably feared planes, they couldn't have been more wrong. He'd chosen to take the plane down; he hadn't anticipated that he was going to be stuck in ice. The ice was what had saved his life, yet taken so much away from him in the process. He'd have preferred to have died rather than live a life without Peggy and Howard (not that he'd tell anybody).

And so, as he stared at the frozen blocks of ice, horrific memories cut into his mind.

"Please, don't do this. We have time. W-we can work it out." Peggy sounded strong but inside, he knew she was breaking, pleading for something she knew would be hopeless.

Steve remembered arguing, breaking it to her as bluntly but as gentle as possible. He had to die. He had to die to save others.

"I'm here..." She knew it was inevitable, what he was going to do, he could tell by the broken tone of her voice. He tried to focus on her photo; he tried not to watch the ice that loomed in his view.

"Steve!" Tony was shaking him as he lay on the floor. Steve didn't even remember falling. But he was cold... so cold...

"You're gonna need a rain check on that dance," Steve tried to lighten the mood and he was grateful that Peggy couldn't see the look of terror that adorned his face. The ice was closer now. It wasn't obscured by the thick layer of clouds that used to block his vision. The ice was what scared him... The ice brought the feeling of terror that closed around his heart like a steely claw.

"Alright," Steve could hear it in her voice. The shaky tone which betrayed the tears that pooled in her eyes. "A week next Saturday, at the Stork Club..." Steve remembered answering her, his voice strong as ever – unlike the expression on his pale face. "Eight o'clock on the dot – don't you dare be late. Understood?" She demanded.

"Capsicle! Spangles!" Tony called in vain. His voice sounded almost terrified, a tone which Steve had never heard him use before. "What's going on?"

"You know, I still don't know how to dance," Steve mumbled and Tony shook him harder. He was slipping in and out of consciousness.

"I'll show you how," Peggy murmured. "Just be there." How Steve wished he was beside her. He wished he could hold her close and be with her, rather than on this wretched plane.

Steve felt something wet seeping into his shoulder. Perhaps it was the coke, though he didn't remember dropping that either. "We'll have the band play something slow. I'd hate to step on your f-"

And he collided with the ice. The plane lurched and slid into the icy water, Steve's consciousness was slipping. He struggled to stay awake. The water was pooling in and all he could think was one name; Peggy, before his eyes closed for what would be the last time in almost seventy years.

Steve sat up with a shocked gasp and looked around wildly. "W-where am I?" he gasped. Tony was kneeling at his side, worry creasing his brow.

"You're in my lab, Steve," he comforted the frightened soldier. "You're fine. You're not in the ice anymore."

Steve was too shaken up to realise that he was being comforted by the least comforting person on earth; Tony freaking Stark.

"I sure hope you weren't telling me to dance with you to 'something slow'." Tony added, trying to lighten the mood, though Steve could tell that he was thoroughly shaken up by the whole ordeal. "What just happened? You took a look into the glass and just... fell...

"PTSD," Steve gasped. "Memories... Visions... Peggy... Ice..."

Tony recoiled, clearly not expecting that. He'd suffered PTSD before (unknown to the Avengers) and he knew it was not a great feeling. "Hey, I'm sorry." He muttered. "I can donate Butterfingers to charity if you want?"

Steve let out a shaky laugh. "Nah, he's fine," he assured the billionaire. "He didn't mean it. Just don't tell anybody."

Tony grinned. "I'll try, Cap," he promised.

If only Steve had known just how completely horrid Tony was at keeping secrets.

If you're nice, you'll review... or follow... or favourite...

If you're REALLY nice you'll do two of those

IF YOURE THE MOST AMAZING LEGEND EVER you'll do all three!

If you're just gonna critisize me then... You're a poop. HA! DO YOU FEEL OFFENDED? No, you probably don't. Oh well. I tried. :)

If you're gonna give me constructive(emphasis on constructive) critisism, then... Well, maybe you're not so bad after all. Constructive critism meaning you don't just go; It sucked and your grammar stank and you can't spell and I hated it and I'm gonna go cry now...

So yeah, dont do that ^ Please...

I'm gonna shut up now. JOIN ME NEXT TIME WITH: NATASHA ROMANOFF! (Or Natalia Romanova... She's just a fake all round huh? Oh well, she's awesome.)

WHO'S YOUR FAV AVENGER? I can't choose outta Tony and Natasha...